


It’s only then that you see me

by cassiem



Category: Block B
Genre: AU, M/M, Show Me The Money AU, show me the money
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:50:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5100029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiem/pseuds/cassiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyung's had to claw his way up through the underground scene, paying for it with blood, sweat and tears. He despises idol rappers – people like Zico, who have swanned through the rap scene, getting all the accolades without working for any of it. When Kyung and Zico come head to head on Show Me The Money 4, it will tip both of their worlds upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. round one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Show Me The Money AU, where Kyung (and Jihoon) are underground rappers, and Zico is the leader of Block B (whose members are unspecified). Both Kyung and Zico are competitors on SMTM4 (rather than Zico being a producer like is canon).

_Unlike my outer appearance, I’m hiding, nobody knows me completely_  
_What exactly do you know about me_  
_Whatever you know that’s just a portion of the iceberg_  
_Half of half, half of me_  
_100km - Cheetah_

 

The line to get in stretches and snakes its way around, and as Kyung slaps his number into his chest and joins the back, trying to peer over people's shoulders, he sighs and resigns himself for a long wait. By the look of the line, he might not get inside until tomorrow. He might have to get Jihoon to bring him a sleeping bag or something.

Fucking Jihoon. It was his idea in the first place to audition for this stupid show. Kyung never really wanted to; the underground is fine for him, really - he doesn't like cameras shoved in his face. But Jihoon had made him sign up for the auditions, and now here he is, stuck in this stupid line for god knows how long.

 _'I fucking hate you,'_ he types to Jihoon, following up with another text: _'I don't recognise anyone around me.'_

_'u'll thnk me when u get famous, hyung ;) n thts bc anyone worth their shit turned up early. ur stuck with the nobodies.'_

He pulls his headphones out of his pocket and shoves them violently in his ears, turning up his music so he can't hear the crowd in front of him before replying, fingers moving fast over the keys. _'It's just going to be an idol-fest, anyway. We read the rumors on who was going, remember?'_

_'LOL!!! wht do u think ive been doing while u were on ur way thr? ive been stalking naver. mino is there!!! from winner!! fucking yg shitfest.'_

Kyung raises his eyebrows. Bobby winning last year had cemented the idea in his head that this show was nothing but a front, and that YG in particular was paying through the nose for favourable appearances. He's met Mino before - he's quite nice, actually, but he's still an _idol rapper_. Scum, in his eyes.

_'Nice. Who else? Was I mentioned?'_

_'ravi from vixx, vernon from 17, and some member of that new boy group that just came out, monsta x. and u were, actually. "promising rookie underground rapper kyung is set to audition." no photo, tho. they had a photo of zico.'_

Kyung scowls at his phone and flops down onto the ground cross legged, ignoring the people who have joined the line behind him, chattering excitedly. _'Zico?? Of Block B Zico???'_

_'lol yes. get an autograph for me if u see him.'_

Kyung locks his screen and closes his eyes. Yet another idol rapper, Zico annoys the shit out of him, for many reasons - mainly being that he's actually really fucking good at what he does, both being an idol and an underground rapper. He hadn't started in the underground (not like Kyung and Jihoon, who had had to claw their way up from the very bottom) but dabbled in it, stealing headlines and gigs from others who deserved his place more. Kyung had been at a gig that Zico had been at and, while they hadn’t run into each other, when Kyung walked out on stage, the crowd was nearly silent – they were all Block B fans, here to see their precious idol.

He hated idol rappers on principle, mainly because they weren’t rappers at all. They didn’t understand what privilege was, and instead just sung and danced happily on stage, rapping a verse, maybe two, that someone else had written for them. They walked into underground clubs and stole the show, they walked into awards shows and stole those, too. Zico was irritating because he was the best idol rapper Kyung had ever come across, and it was threatening.

_‘Wait. This didn’t occur to me until now. Why the fuck didn’t you audition?’_

Jihoon shoots back a text filled with laughing emojis. _‘r u fucking nuts? u know i hate the spotlight being on me. besides, this way, i practically get a backstage pass to all the bullshit. and i get to watch u tear out zico’s throat on tv. win win deal.’_

_‘He annoys you too. I know he does.’_

_‘not everyone hates idol rappers with the veracity that u seem to.’_

_‘Oooh, big word. Are you using the word-of-the-day calendar I got for you?’_

_‘fuck u hyung. im not bringing u a tent later.’_

_‘Okay. But when I get a record deal with YG I won’t bring you along.’_

He turns off his phone, tilts his head back to drink in the sun, and begins the long wait.

//

The line stretches back behind him, so far that he'd have to jump to see exactly where it ends, and the little dignity he has left he clings onto with all abandon, so he ends up sitting, by himself, headphones in and phone beeping as he texts Jihoon.

 _‘Ravi just walked past,’_ Kyung types, studying the idol as he goes past, cameras following him, and fansite admins with their huge telephoto lenses following _them_. He’s sure Ravi will pass – no doubt his label paid a princely sum to make sure of that.

 _‘how did u kno who he is?? u been watching music core again???’_ Jihoon fires back instantly, his text accompanied by laughing emoticons.

_‘No. He has a recognisable face, is all. Also, I’m down to 20% battery, and it’s getting late. I really do need you to bring me something.’_

_‘r they not putting u up in a hotel or smth??? u have to sleep there???’_

_‘If I want my spot, yes. I want to get this over and done with quickly.’_

_‘fine im on my way. save ur battery. ill be there in half an hr.’_

He diligently turns his phone off and reluctantly pulls his headphones out, allowing himself to take in the conversation around him. Ahead of him is a group of friends that had all decided to audition together; he’s overheard them practicing on each other. The girl is quite good, but the three men are awful. He could rap better in his sleep.

The man behind him has a familiar face, and Kyung is sure he’s seen him somewhere before, but he’s not sure where. Perhaps in a rap battle or something; he’s done so many by now the faces have all blurred into one. Thankfully, no one strikes up conversation with him, and he’s able to lean back on his hands and just soak in everything as the sun begins to set.

“I heard they’re going to keep going all through the night,” the girl in front of him tells her companions excitedly, tucking her hair behind her ears. “They’re already up to the 700s.”

He looks down at his number – 2506 – and sighs. In the grand scheme of things, he’s near the front (considering 7,000 people turned up) but it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. The judges must be moving so fast to churn through that many people so quickly, which doesn't bode well for the quality of judging.

He's startled out of his doze by a shout nearby, and he recognises Jihoon's baritone voice immediately. "Let me through!"

"Sir, you can't go in there. It's for contestants only."

Scrambling to his feet, Kyung peers around people until he sees Jihoon, towering over one of the security guards, a duffel bag under his arm. "My _brother_ is over there," Jihoon booms, pointing to Kyung, who he's spotted. "I need to bring him food."

Kyung smirks as the man relents and steps aside for Jihoon to hurry over, a huge grin on his face.

"Brother? Really?" Kyung laughs as they hug, noticing the others in the line starting to look at them.

"Yeah, whatever gets me in," Jihoon smiles, handing him a takeaway container of chicken. "Are you ready?"

Kyung tears into the chicken, suddenly realising how hungry he actually is. "Mmm. I guess," he mutters around a mouthful.

He sits back down and continues eating, listening to the others start chattering around them. He and Jihoon have been a duo for a few months now (despite knowing each other for years, it had only occurred to them recently to combine their talents), and their popularity has been growing steadily. With him being short and Jihoon being tall - with bright red hair - they make an interesting team. The others around him have started recognising them now.

"So," Jihoon starts, leaning back on his hands and crossing his legs at the ankles. "Did they pick you out to appear on camera?"

Kyung shakes his head. "No, thank god. No one recognised me until you showed up."

Jihoon flashes an award winning grin, directed at the girl in front, who turns away, giggling hysterically. "It's not my fault if I'm the better member of the team," he replies, preening, before turning serious again. "Are you ready? Do you know all your lyrics?"

"Yeah. It's all up here," Kyung says, tapping his head with a rueful smile. "I'm sorely tempted to fuck up on purpose, just so I don't have to be here."

The man behind him, who is shamelessly eavesdropping at this point, turns away with a noise of disgust as Jihoon punches him on the arm. "Don't you dare. This is an opportunity for both of us." He reaches down and pulls out his phone, grinning wickedly. "Now, let's see what people are saying about you..."

//

Kyung finally gets inside at midnight, which is quicker than he thought. Jihoon had waited with him for a few hours before disappearing back into the night, leaving him with a portable charger, a can of coke and a veritable repertoire on all the judges' qualifications, thanks to Jihoon's internet skills.

He enters the arena, staring in wonder. It's _huge_ , and the floor is filled with contestants, milling about nervously, fidgeting and fussing. He chooses a spot on the floor and sits, fingering a loose thread on his jeans, observing.

He's not nervous. It's just something that's never bothered him, unlike Jihoon, who gets so nervous before shows he's sometimes sick. He sees a few people here who look the same way Jihoon does - pale, shaky, hands clutched to their stomachs. There's nothing to be nervous about - not really. If he passes, he passes, and if he doesn't, then he gets to crawl into bed and sleep, forgetting he ever came here.

Sighing, he watches the camera crew move around, seeing people fail over and over, forgetting their lyrics or fumbling or just otherwise being mediocre. As it creeps closer and closer, he starts to go over his lyrics in his head, repeating them just so he knows he won't forget. If he fails today, it's because he's not up to par, not because he messes up.

And then a voice rings out, loud and nasally, through the crowd. "You all judge me because I'm an idol?"

Scrambling to his feet and cursing his height, he peers over people's shoulders until he spots Zico, the cameras trained on him, rapping furiously, all up in San-E's face. He listens until Zico is done, lip curling in disgust. As much as he hates him for riding on the coattails of legitimate rappers, Zico is _really_ good. It's no surprise when he gets a necklace, fistpumping defiantly in the air.

Their eyes meet across the crowd and Kyung sneers, deliberately looking him up and down and turning away, flickers of hate burning in his belly. He has had to fight his way up to where he is now, paying for it in blood, sweat and tears. He's slept on the street and begged for money just so he could have enough to pay a promoter to get a gig. He's gone without food so he can perform the next day. And Zico? He has done none of that. He was trained to rap in the clean, sterile training room of a large company. He's never had to do any of the shit that Kyung has done.

As the camera approaches, he takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders.

//

_‘HYUNG! r u in yet? how did it go?’_

_‘hyung??? people are livetweeting!! they said u passed????’_

_‘Kyung? im worried, pls reply.’_

Kyung stares at his phone blankly and places it down face first on the counter, stabbing his fork into his noodles. After his audition, he had fled, out of the arena and down the street until he’d found a convenience store, where he’d parked himself on one of the chairs, the _Show Me The Money 4_ necklace still swinging on his neck. The cashier had given him an odd look, and had opened his mouth to ask about it, but upon seeing Kyung’s dazed expression, had quickly shut it again.

After finishing his rap, he had fully expected San-E to say ‘thanks, but no thanks’ – but instead he’d stepped forward and slipped a necklace over his neck. Stunned, Kyung had bowed and mumbled a thanks, and turned to see a camera in his face.

“How do you feel?” The PD asked, smiling gently at him.

“Shocked,” he replied honestly, then winced. “Well, more surprised. And happy.”

That last bit was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that. He mustered up a grin and a weak noise of jubilation and had grabbed his bag off the floor and –

Ran smack bang into the chest of Zico, who was standing directly in front of him.

 _Shit shit shit._ He knew immediately that editing would not make him look kind, not with what he'd just spat out, but he clenched his teeth together and waited. If the editors wanted to make a rivalry out of them – and he’s watched enough reality TV to know they will – he wasn't  going to make it easy.

“Congratulations,” Zico said easily, eyes studying him. “You’re Park Kyung, right?”

Kyung nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “I already know who you are.”

Zico laughed softly, looking at the ground and back up. “Yeah, I heard your rap. Don’t like idol rappers, huh?”

“No,” Kyung replied, squaring his shoulders and jutting his chin out. Zico was taller than him by quite a bit, and he didn't like it – he’d always been self-conscious about his height, and it was not helped by Jihoon, who is a walking beanstalk. “I don’t.”

Zico shrugged. “Well, that’s your prerogative. But you’re really good at rapping – the competition should be interesting this year.”

“Thanks,” Kyung replied stiffly, not taking Zico’s outstretched hand. It was rude, and he knew it was, but he’s the older one – if only by a few months – so Zico just nodded, smiling slightly.

“Oh, and Kyung?” Zico called as he turned to leave.

He turned back, preparing for a comment or quip, and was instead greeted by Zico grinning jovially. “I hope I can change your mind on idol rappers.”

//

Sighing, he picks up his phone and shoots back a text to Jihoon. _‘I’m fine. I passed. And Zico had a few things to say to me afterwards.'_

Jihoon texts back instantly – he was probably lying in bed clutching his phone desperately, waiting for a reply. _‘WHAT THE HELL DID U DO???!! EVERY1 IS TLKING ABT IT ON TWITTER!! THEY SAID U DISSED ZICO TO HIS FACE!!!!!’_ Kyung’s phone buzzes furiously again as he follows up with another. _‘what did he say to u?? what happened? tell me everything!’_

He types it all out and presses send, and instantly, Jihoon replies. _‘wow… I mean. wow. i knew u would pass but i didn’t think he’d come up to u. but u did diss him. was that freestyle?’_

_‘Yeah. I was just really angry when I saw him. He gets under my skin.’_

_‘so u made up a freestyle dissing him – AND EVERY OTHER IDOL RAPPER IN THE PLACE – on the spot? Kyung, ppl are talking alrdy!”_

Kyung takes another mouthful of noodles, slurping them loudly. _‘I don’t want that. I never wanted that. Hell, I never wanted any of this. I planned to flunk out, to stuff up so they’d have to fail me. And then I saw Zico and I got SO MAD.’_

_‘thts good! u can feed off each other, and u will both get better. for once ur competitive nature is coming in handy.’_

He puts his phone down and sighs. He doesn’t want to feed off Zico. He wants to go home and never have to leave his shitty little apartment ever again, and he certainly doesn’t want to come back in a few days for the second round, where he’ll have to rap for a minute over the beat. The producers had taken his details and told him they’d be in touch with where to meet and when, but they’d given him a ballpark estimate of the day after tomorrow. Which gives him 24 hours to try and do damage control.

He chucks the container of noodles in the bin and heads out, exhausted and in a foul mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Hi! Are you okay with a non-Taepyo? I really need me some Zikyung angst-fluff (hurt/comfort, idk how to call it) where Zico is an idol, Kyung is an underground rapper idol-hater and both join SMTM and they hate each other at first (mostly because of Kyung's bad mouthing) but end up enjoying each other's company?
> 
> As y'all may well know, I don't like AUs - I don't read them and the only ones I write seem to be vampire AUs. So when this came through my inbox I was intrigued and decided to give it a crack. I'm enjoying it so far!


	2. round two

Kyung really has no idea who’s made it to the second round – unlike Jihoon, he has tried to stay away from the internet – so when he shows up at the shoot a few days later, he’s surprised to see nearly all of the prominent idols still there, among the rest of the competitors.

As they mill around – all 200 of them, such a pitiful number – someone approaches, shouldering through the crowd, and he breaks into a smile. “Hanbyeol!”

Hanbyeol punches him on the shoulder, lightly, before laughing and pulling him in for a hug. “It’s Andup, you bastard.”

“Alright, alright. Andup,” he concedes, still grinning ear to ear.

He has known Hanbyeol – well, Andup now; the use of the stage name doesn’t surprise him one bit, since Andup is putting on a persona now like they all are – since elementary school, and they’d been firm friends all throughout high school, too. They’d gone their separate ways after that, occasionally running into each other at gigs or concerts, going out to drink afterwards. Kyung adored Andup, loved his easy flow and amazing lyrical ability, and loved how their friendship was so easily reignited after years, starting where they’d last left off.

And, alright, he’d had quite the crush on him when he was younger. But that was all in the past, now.

“What do you think, hyung? Of the competition?” Andup whispers, leaning down, lips brushing Kyung’s hair.

He tries to ignore the way he feels electric all of a sudden and mock-shudders. “Why are there so many fucking idols?”

Andup laughs triumphantly, punching Kyung on the shoulder again. “ _There’s_ the Kyung I know and love.” He scans the crowd, eyes narrowing as he spots the idols. “I knew this show was a corporate sell-out.”

“Why the fuck are you here, then?” Kyung counters.

Andup rolls his eyes. “It’s about time I got what I deserve. I’m here to _win_ , Kyung,” he replies, patiently, like Kyung is a child. “Hey, I saw your audition.”

Wincing, Kyung looks up at the younger man, who waggles his eyebrows, grinning widely. “It was… impromptu,” he replies, weakly.

Andup’s eyebrows shoot even further up. “You hate him that much, huh?”

Kyung blushes furiously, feeling that nasty pit of hateful snakes in his belly open up again. He opens his mouth to reply – yes, he _does_ hate Zico that much, apparently – but PDs start yelling and the crowd starts shuffling forward.

“Well, you can’t freestyle this,” Andup murmurs grimly. “So I hope you’re prepared.”

They move, as a herd, into a great big room, with chairs set up for all of them, and a TV at the front – so they can watch and react to others’ performances, he realises, frowning. Fuck up here and everyone will see it.

He goes to sit with Andup, but a PD catches his sleeve and tugs him away, shaking her head. Andup catches his gaze and his eyes go dark – this doesn’t bode well for Kyung if they’re already manufacturing drama and telling him where to sit, and only in the second round. The PD steers him, by the elbow now, to a seat towards the back, and pushes him gently down into a chair.

He doesn’t have to look to his right to know who’s sitting there, but he does it anyway, and sure enough, it’s Zico grinning gleefully – or is that threateningly? He genuinely can’t tell, and represses a shudder.

Suddenly aware of the plethora of cameras that surround them, pointing in their direction, he keeps a very straight face and turns to the front, seeing if he can see Andup’s stupid camo cap, but thanks to his height – when will he ever get over being short? – he can’t.

“Hello, Holke,” Zico says, still grinning.

Kyung bristles. He used to rap under the name ‘Holke’ when he was young, a beginner, still in high school. He doesn’t exactly make it public, but his tracks are out there for anyone to download – you’d just have to do a little bit of digging. Which, coincidentally, is exactly what Zico is trying to do to him: get under his skin. Frustratingly, it’s worked, so he turns to Zico, mouth twisted into a snarl.

“Been reading up on me, hmm?” he growls, fully aware of how unthreatening he looks – whenever he gets in fights (which is surprisingly often, because he has a quick temper) Jihoon just steps in and, with his height and sharp facial features, his opponents usually back down. He has no backup here, so snaps back with the first thing he can think of. “Careful. Wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re getting _obsessed_ with me.”

Zico’s face changes at the name-drop of one of Block B’s songs, abruptly, and Kyung has to repress a shiver. Man, the boy can _glare_. He turns back to the front, eyes focused on the TV, but he can still feel the weight of Zico’s scowl, heavy around his shoulders. It feels victorious.

//

Andup kills his audition, as Kyung knew he would – it was a walk in the park for him. He even gives the judges a lecture about passing Vernon, and he can’t help but smile. It seems Andup has a rivalry of his own brewing.

As they all watch the auditions, waiting for their names to be called, he can’t help but feel sick with the hatred that is starting to consume him, with Zico sitting so close. Maybe Jihoon is right, and maybe this level of disgust isn’t healthy. But he feels like he’s boiling over with the injustice of it all, and the physical proximity isn’t helping, especially when Zico shifts and his leg brushes against Kyung’s.

His phone abruptly vibrates, and he fishes it out of his pocket, conscious of Zico glancing over at him. _‘wat’s happening?’_ Jihoon asks.

 _‘We’re all waiting. Guess who I ran into?’_  he replies.

_‘andup? hehe i knew he wld be there but i didnt tell u. was it a surprise??’_

_‘Thanks, asshole. But yes, it was a great surprise,’_  he taps back, realising Zico is unashamedly reading over his shoulder now.

_‘did he pass?? w8 ignore that ofc he did. wats happening with zico???’_

Smirking slightly, he replies. _‘The PDs “arranged” it, quite nicely, so that I’d be sitting next to him. He’s reading this as I speak. Say hi, Jihoon!’_

 _‘HI ZICO!!!!!!!!!!!!!’_  comes the reply, and he feels the weight in the chair next to him shift as Zico leans away. He’s about to shoot off a text back when the PD, the same one who accosted him earlier, calls out his name, and every head in the room swivels to look at him.

Swallowing, he stands up and heads to the front, trying desperately to ignore the way Zico is smirking at him, the way he can feel the younger man's eyes boring a hole in his back. He’s ready.

//

_‘how did it go hyung? did u kill it?? i kno u did.’_

_‘Yes, I passed. I’m in a cab on the way home now.’_

_‘ur gonna win this thing i can fckin tell. who voted u out?’_

_‘No one. I got an all-pass, like Andup. Speaking of, he wants to take us all out drinking the next week. You in?’_

_‘fck yea i am. andup is hilarious. and we can bitch abt the show together.’_

_‘Yes, considering you’re practically a backstage reporter. HEY, you better not be posting this on Naver!’_

_‘alrdy done, sorry hyung but ur 2 slow. c u at home.’_

_‘Motherfucker.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no intention of including Andup in this fic, but when I watched ep 2 and saw his disgust towards idol rappers I just couldn't help myself. And, it's an AU, so if his personality is totally wrong (which, let's be honest, it probably is) I can just throw my hands up in the air and go _fuck it, it's an AU_. 
> 
> And yes, that's why this is going up in chapters – I'm literally writing it parallel to the show, as I watch it.
> 
> And yes I know Block B doesn't have a song called obsessed but let's pretend mmkay


	3. round three

“Fifty two of us. It’s not many, is it?” Kyung sighs, standing on his tippy toes to see the crowd, looking to see who else got a “good” sticker on their number.

It’s been nearly a week since the last round, and they’d been summoned back for round three, gathering in the same space as before. He knows this is the one on one battle round, and he’s pretty confident he knows who his opponent will be.

Andup shakes his head. He’s barely spoken all day, is bouncy and jittery, unable to keep still. “Mino’s still here. And Vernon.” He turns to look at Kyung and smirks. “And Zico.”

Kyung bristles and shoves Andup, frowning as the younger man laughs. “Fuck you, Hanbyeol,” he says, loud enough for the others to hear.

Andup just grins in his face and walks off, still twitchy. Over dinner the other night, he’d said that he was looking forward to tearing Vernon a new one.

“You just know they’re going to engineer it so that you face him, right?” Kyung had said, jabbing his chopsticks in the air rather violently.

Andup shrugged. “For once, mnet’s shady editing will give me an advantage. He really gets under my skin.”

Kyung stared into his bowl, preparing himself for what was coming. Sure enough, Jihoon turned to him – a bit bleary eyed from all the soju – and said, loudly, “do you think they’re going to do that to you and Zico?”

Kyung narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck do you think? Of course they are. And I’ll tear him a new one, just like Andup’s going to do to Vernon.”

Jihoon blinked, surprised, and Kyung felt a little bad. He, despite being so tall and acting so adult sometimes, was still young. “Sorry, Jihoon,” he murmured, watching his expression change from surprise to joy again.

Jihoon reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, grinning mischievously – or as mischievously as possible while having rice stuck in his teeth. “Want to get a head start?”

Snapping back to the present, he realises they’re starting, as the MC starts to talk about the rules. Thanks to Jihoon and naver, he is now a veritable encyclopedia on Zico: he knows where he grew up, what his tattoos are and what they mean, what high school he went to – hell, with Jihoon’s skills they’d even managed to track down the names of his ex girlfriends. Kyung has no qualms about playing dirty, not when the stakes are this high.

Fuck, he doesn’t even want to win – not really, he realises as he watches the proceedings disinterestedly. He’s not interested in the money. He just wants to send a message to idols that this is not their place, that they belong in clean, sterilised dance studios, following the motions that someone else has choreographed like robots, like puppets. Zico is just a particularly annoying figurehead, someone who represents all that.

“Andup gets the first choice for his opponent!” the MC calls, and Kyung smirks. Mnet is entirely too predictable sometimes.

He watches as Andup steps up onto the stage and calls out Vernon without hesitation, the nervousness and jitters gone now. Abstractly he finds himself staring, his thoughts wandering back to that one time years ago, when Andup had kissed him after drinking too much soju, putting his hands on Kyung in ways that were unfamiliar but recognisable at the same time. They’d never mentioned it again, and Kyung was too scared to bring it up. It was ages ago, anyway, it’s not like –

“Are you ready?” Zico whispers throatily in his ear and he jumps, startled, blushing furiously.

His brain starts to short circuit and somehow the image in his head of Andup kissing him, hands splayed on his belly making him burn up, mixes with Zico’s voice and it’s _Zico_ in his head kissing him now, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, and oh shit, that’s too much to bear.

“What the fuck do you _want?_ ” he snaps back, desperately trying to think of something else, _anything_ else to make these thoughts go away, but he turns and Zico’s mouth is at his eye level and his lips are so plump and –

“Go away,” he snarls, and Zico obliges, laughing under his breath.

He realises, faintly, that this is exactly what Zico wanted: to unnerve him, to get under his skin. Well, it had worked, but probably not in the way he intended. The other contestants around him are giving him odd looks, but he takes steady breaths and manages to focus on Andup in front of him, smirking cockily as he faces Vernon. Kyung doesn’t have to be a mind reader to know that this is not going to go well for Vernon – who is _so_ young! – and as Andup smirks, walking away into the little allocated room with Vernon following him, he knows he’s right.

//

He watches intently as names start coming fast and hard now. He fully expects that the PDs will make Zico choose him, or have his name called out first – from the reactions to reports of their feud (if you can even call it that) on Twitter and naver, it’s shaping up to be a popular angle.

So when someone he hasn’t been paying attention to at all, Candle, calls out his name, he blinks, startled, making his way forward in a daze. What is going on? Why haven’t the PDs made him go head to head with Zico?

It dawns at him as he faces Candle, completely bewildered, that the producers want to draw this out for as long as they can, to get more ratings. They can’t do that if one of them gets eliminated. He shouldn’t be surprised, not really, but when the MC asks him how he feels he blurts, “honestly, I’m quite shocked.”

“Why?”

“I thought Zico and I were going to face each other,” he mutters. “It’s a pity.”

There’s no doubt in his mind that this scrawny kid in front of him was told to call out his name, and that even if Zico had been called first he wouldn’t have picked Kyung. In fact, as he looks out over the small crowd, he sees Zico smirking knowingly. As an idol, he knows how the system works. He probably expected this.

Fuck. That’s twice in a very short space of time that he’s been thrown off balance, and he doesn’t like it.

//

 _‘hyuuuung. dnt leave me in the dark for so long. the fans want ur reports!_ ’ Jihoon texts him.

_‘I’m in the middle of preparing for the third round, Jihoon. Patience is a virtue.’_

_‘u and zico??!!! i cant w8!!’_

Pausing his music, he apologises to Candle and types out a lengthy message. _‘No, the PDs engineered it so that I’m rapping against Candle. My guess is they wanted to draw out the feud for as long as possible, so they made poor Candle pick me. They’re only thinking of the ratings.’_

_‘ur soooo skeptical hyung. mayb candle just wanted to verse u. anyway get back to work!!!’_

Kyung puts his phone down and looks up at Candle. Perhaps Jihoon is right, and Candle really did want to beat him, and he’s just being overly skeptical; it wouldn’t be the first time. But he’s never heard of Candle before, and he doesn’t seem to hate him with a passion, so why would he pick him…?

He opens his mouth to ask, but Candle, who was looking at him expectantly, speaks first. “Let's get back to it.”

//

_‘hyung, how did it go? r u eliminated?’_

_‘No. I feel bad, actually, Candle was quite good, and nice as well. It reinforces my belief that this was all the PD’s idea.’_

_‘wht abt zico?’_

_‘I don’t know, I didn’t speak to anyone when I left (I’m walking to go get a cab now). I would expect yes, though. They would have matched him up with someone below his skillset.’_

Jihoon sends him angry emoticons. _‘honestly hyung, ur ‘the world is out to get me’ attitude is getting old. prob candle just really wanted to face you. prob zico got picked by sum1 who wanted to beat him. u have no idea of knowing.’_

_‘Yeah, right. Maybe, but I doubt –’_

He’s interrupted by someone snatching the phone out of his hands. With a yelp, he prepares to chase down the mugger who has stolen his phone, but it’s not a mugger at all, it’s Zico, smirking, eyes twinkling over his sunglasses as he scrolls through the messages.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” he yells, reaching for his phone, but Zico holds it provokingly over his head, out of his reach.

“You’re always on this thing,” Zico replies mildly, holding the phone so he can see the screen, ignoring Kyung jumping for it. “Who’re you texting?”

“None of your fucking business!” Kyung huffs, rage bubbling underneath his skin. He wants to lash out, to make Zico feel as irritated as he is. He stops jumping for his phone and puts his hands on his hips, mouth twisted into a frown.

It’s not just the fact that Zico is an idol that irritates him – although that is annoying. The main reason he despises Zico is because of his cockiness, his confidence, his absolute smugness. It’s displayed in the way he walks, the way he smiles, in everything he does – including this, standing there smirking with Kyung’s phone in his hand. He has no reason to be this confident, no justification for swanning around with his nose in the air.

“Who’s Jihoon?” Zico asks, frowning, before raising his eyebrows. “You mean that red-haired Jihoon that you’re in a duo with? Ooh, he’s good.”

Something about Zico talking about his closest friend like that breaks something in him and he snaps, getting in Zico’s personal space – ignoring the way his heart starts to race at the closeness – and splays his hands on Zico’s chest and shoves him, hard, so that he stumbles backwards. “Shut the fuck up.”

Zico rips off his sunglasses so Kyung can see his eyes, and he’s not furious, he’s amused, and that makes Kyung even more angry. “Chill out, hyung. I was just curious.”

“Not your hyung,” he growls.

Zico shrugs, one shoulder rising. “Okay, Kyung.” He taps on the phone quickly, before handing it back to him. “There.”

Red-faced, he takes the phone, puzzled. He shouldn’t have snapped at Zico, shouldn’t have shoved him like that. For fuck’s sake, _why_ does Zico make him act like this? What about him brings out the worst in him?

“What did you do?” he asks, warily, staring at the phone in his hand like it might leap up and bite him.

Zico smiles easily. “My number is in there. Give me a call sometime, yeah? I’ll treat you to dinner. Show you the idol life.”

And with that, he’s gone, walking off into the night without a second glance, SMTM4 cap settled firmly on his head, sunglasses resting on his nose. Kyung is left with his phone, displaying Zico’s number, his name written above it. His real name, not his stage name: _Jiho_.

He shivers and starts walking slowly, trying to decipher the snarled-up feelings churning around in his stomach.


	4. round four

“So,” Jiho says, spreading his arms wide, gesturing to the dorm. “What do you think?”

Kyung steps carefully inside, marvelling. It’s not a big dorm by any means, but it’s much bigger than the tiny one-bedroom apartment he and Jihoon share. Jiho watches him closely, those cat-like eyes following him as he peers in every room.

“It’s nice,” he shrugs, moving to sit down on the lounge. “Pretty big.”

Jiho flops down next to him, closer than he should be, really, pressed up against Kyung’s side, grinning devilishly. “I told everyone else to fuck off out of here tonight,” he says quietly.

“What? Why?”

Jiho leans in close, so close that Kyung can see the minuscule wrinkles around his eyes, the creases in his lips. “So we could be alone.”

He jolts out of the dream immediately, awakening to the sound of his phone ringing, and Jihoon yelling at him from the other room to pick it up. Groggily, he does so, still not comprehending exactly where he is, what’s going on, what the time is or even why he was dreaming about Jiho.

He pads into the other room of their apartment – the room that’s a kitchen, dining room and lounge room combined – a few minutes later, yawning and pulling on a shirt. Jihoon looks up from the floor where he’s watching TV in surprise.

“Where are you going, hyung?” he asks, shovelling a mouthful of ramen down his throat.

“Studio,” Kyung mumbles, stifling a yawn and dragging his fingers through his hair in an effort to tame it. “I’ve been summoned.”

Jihoon brightens at this, switching off the TV and putting down his cup. “Oh, really? Do you know why?”

Kyung shrugs, squinting at his watch to see the time. “A surprise challenge, I guess. Hey, I told you to wake me up an hour ago. It’s eight pm.”

“Sorry. Got distracted,” Jihoon says apologetically, nodding towards the TV. “Well, off you go. Keep me updated though, yeah?” he mumbles around a mouthful of food.

Still bewildered, Kyung mutters a reply and heads out, head still spinning from the dream.

//

“Snoop Dogg?” he asks, pressing into Andup’s side desperately, an isle of peace in the chaos that’s erupting around them. “Fucking Snoop Dogg?”

Andup glances down at him, eyes shining. “Shut up, Kyung. This is our chance to really get noticed!” he hisses, and begins shoving his way to the front.

A white-hot blade of irritation flashes through Kyung, but he swallows it. This isn’t the first time Andup has done something similar; his eyes are always on his goal of bettering himself, and sometimes his friends get left behind. Kyung has sort of accepted that now, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.

He can almost predict what happens next, though, and sure enough he’s proved right when Jiho – no, god damn it, it’s _Zico_ – takes Andup’s place next to Kyung and smiles elegantly.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Kyung mutters under his breath but somehow Zico catches it and stares down at him, raising an eyebrow archly.

“What, the challenges? I agree. I hate this cloak and dagger shit,” Zico murmurs in return.

Kyung turns to him and is struck, abruptly, by how long Jiho’s – _Zico!_ – eyelashes are, which puts him in mind of the dream. He blinks away that thought and tries to arrange his features into something resembling irritation (even though he’s not really irritated, not anymore; Zico hanging around like a bad smell is sort of standard by now). “I _meant_ the way you keep following me around everywhere.”

Zico raises his eyebrows. “Last I checked, we are two of 28 in a competition together. It’s hardly ‘following you around.’”

“Whatever,” Kyung mutters under his breath, hating to admit that Zico has a point.

He shoves his way through the crowd and reaches for the mic as it passes him, snatching it out of someone’s hand and bringing it to his mouth, thanking God that his years in New Zealand gave him reasonable English skills; he now has a chance to use them.

//

He finds Jiho – _fucking Zico_ – leaning on a wall in the hall outside the main room, scanning people as they walk past; when he sees Kyung his eyes light up, and he falls into step next to him.

“Texting Jihoon again?” he asks as they walk, navigating their way through the mnet building.

Kyung just buries his head in his phone and continues to tap away furiously at the keys. _‘I’ll tell you everything as soon as I get home. I got his autograph for you!’_

He’s vaguely aware of following Jiho through halls and down elevators as Jihoon replies. _‘U DID NOT!!!!!! OMG HYUNG!!!!!!!!!!’_

As they get in another elevator, he begins to tap a reply – but the phone is snatched out of his hands; he doesn’t even jump for it this time, just sighs and looks up at Jiho, who is holding it out of reach again, face serious.

“I want to be your fucking friend, Kyung,” he blurts. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Kyung blinks and looks at Jiho – really, _properly_ looks. They’re standing entirely too close, considering the elevator is empty apart from them. Jiho looks, for the first time since he’s started bothering Kyung, genuinely upset and frustrated. To Kyung’s surprise, he feels a little pang of regret in his stomach – why, he doesn’t know, but he finds himself talking anyway.

“I don’t really hate _you_ , I guess, I just hate the idea of idol rappers, you know? I don’t think they do justice to hip-hop, to the whole idea of being a rapper. They don’t work for it, they don’t –”

He’s cut off by Jiho clapping a hand across his mouth and, startled, he shuts up, blinking up at Jiho, who looks even _more_ upset. “You don’t even know me, Kyung. You hated me from the moment I walked in the fucking door, even when I tried to be nice to you.”

“I – ” he begins helplessly, but he trails off when he realises Jiho is right.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and Jiho practically runs out the door after shoving the phone into Kyung’s hands, not looking back. Kyung waits for a quip, or a smart remark, but there is none – just the sight of Jiho walking away from him, not looking back. It stings, more than he thought it would; he just stands there and watches until the elevator doors shut again and he’s left alone with his thoughts, miserable and confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betcha thought I'd forgotten about this huh
> 
> (I haven't heehee)
> 
> (I love sexual tension)


	5. round five

The moment Kyung walks into one of the studios at mnet a few days later, his eyes scan the crowd and fall upon Jiho, standing rather close to one of the producers, smiling widely at her and batting his eyelashes.

Nausea rolls over him inexplicably as he turns away, blinking hard, eyes searching for Andup in the crowd, desperate, suddenly, to look anywhere else except at Jiho flirting blatantly with one of the producers right in front of his face. He reaches into his pocket to text Jihoon – he needs _someone_ , at least – when Jiho looks up.

They look at each other for a long moment, Jiho’s eyes seeming to speak a thousand words all at once, before he raises his eyebrow and, with a cocky smirk, turns back to the producer, placing his hand on her arm.

Kyung turns away. Jiho is just trying to wind him up, to get under his skin; that’s what he’s been doing this entire time and so far it’s worked. _Not this time, though_ , he thinks to himself, setting his mouth in a grim line. Today he is grounded, calm and focused, and ready to enjoy the performances; it should be nice to relax and not have to worry about performing or freestyling.

 _‘r u ready hyungie?’_ Jihoon has texted, and Kyung smiles.

_‘As I’ll ever be.’_

//

The performances are a lot of fun to watch. Kyung enjoys each one in different ways, but he knows how he will vote when the time comes. Taewoon and Paloalto’s team blew everyone away and he suspects they will draw in the majority of the votes.

The whole time he’s watching, he feels eyes on him, off from his right somewhere, where he knows Jiho is standing. He tries to ignore them as best as he can, but at one point he looks up and sees Jiho silhouetted by the red lights around the stage and his heart skips a beat, butterflies taking up residence in his stomach. Pushing them down, swallowing it, he buries his head in his phone, live-texting the whole event to Jihoon to post on Naver (where his popularity has grown exponentially since filming started).

The performances conclude and they all line up to cast their votes; without hesitation, he sticks his ticket in Tablo and Paloalto’s box, says a few words for the camera and heads out to wait for the votes to be counted. There are a few waiting rooms around for everyone to mingle in, and others have chosen to leave the building entirely and go get some ramen from the corner store. Kyung, however, finds a quiet corner, sticks his headphones in and starts to scribble lyrics on a scrap of paper he finds in his jacket pocket.

_‘i cant wait 2 see the results. zico must be feeling nervous.’_

Kyung frowns at his phone, the text tone jolting him out of his revelry. _‘Why would he be nervous?’_

Jihoon sends an angry emoticon, and Kyung can picture him bending over his phone, tongue sticking out as he taps away at the keyboard furiously. _‘i swear ive told u a million times hyung. taewoon is zico’s older brother.’_

His eyes widen in understanding as he stares at the phone, resting innocently on his thigh. Oh, _shit_. That adds a whole new dimension to the drama of the filming, and it explains Jiho’s sly looks at Taewoon, his nervousness at performing in front of him – in front of his _brother_. He sits back against the wall and looks up, letting the information sink in, before texting back quickly.

_‘Well, that’s… That changes things.’_

_‘understatement of the century, kyungie hyung. update me pls.’_

Kyung looks up just in time to see Jiho enter the room with Hanhae, laughing loudly and without abandon, hand on his stomach. Hanhae’s arm is wrapped around his shoulders and Kyung feels a sudden stab of inexplicable jealousy, and he blinks as he watches the two of them cross the room.

Jiho hasn’t done anything wrong to him – no matter what way you looked at it. He had been nothing but friendly, even welcoming to Kyung, and Kyung had rejected his offers of friendship – not even nicely, but _vehemently_. He’d been an asshole, and if that wasn’t enough, he now knows that Jiho is dealing with the stress of performing in front of his older brother on a show that’s broadcast nationally.

"Fuck," he says out loud, blinking hard.

He’s _really_ fucked it up this time.

//

When Lil Boi rejects the offer, a ripple runs through the crowd, and shocked faces turn to look at him, Kyung included. Team TaPal (as they’d taken to calling themselves) had taken nearly all of the votes – but apparently not Lil Boi’s. Taewoon looks put out, chewing his lip, and from where Kyung is standing he can see relief etched all over Jiho’s face. For every rapper that rejects an offer, there’s a chance that he could be next.

As Paloalto calls out One’s name, Kyung sees Jiho’s shoulders sag slightly. It’s barely perceptible, so much so that he’s pretty sure only he and the cameras saw. Still Jiho doesn’t waver, holding his chin up high, even as Taewoon calls out Mino’s name.

That would have hurt. Mino and Jiho are old friends – Jihoon had passed that little tidbit of information on earlier – and for one to be picked but not the other… Well. Kyung’s just glad he’s not in that situation. As Mino walks past, he sends Jiho an apologetic look, which Jiho acknowledges with a nod.

Kyung is pretty sure he’s not going to get picked, but that’s alright. Whatever team he ends up on will be good; one of his strengths is his ability to adapt to any situation he’s placed in. He’s more worried about Jiho, who he can see is beginning to crack under the pressure, sweat beading on his temple. Andup’s name is called next, and he shoulders past Kyung, giving him a cocky grin as he goes, which Kyung returns.

And then _his_ name is being called out, and he’s shoved forward to step up onto the stage, taking the proffered bracelet from Paloalto’s hands disbelievingly, taking his place next to Andup, blinking out at the crowd, his head still catching up to what happened.

His eyes find Jiho’s in the crowd, and he winces at the weight of the younger man’s glare. Rage, bitterness, sadness, jealousy – Jiho needs no words to convey these emotions to him, and he’s surprised to find that it hurts.

//

The next few minutes pass in a daze. Kyung stands, rather woozily, on the stage, as the MC says his last lines. They’re then, all six of them, herded off the stage. Taewoon and Paloalto disappear into a room - probably so they can watch whatever’s coming next - and the teammates are dumped in a waiting room with a monitor but no cameras.

They all stare at each other for a few moments, before One shrugs. “Nice to meet you all, but I’m going to go now.”

“We don’t have to stay?” Andup asks from where he’s flopped on the sofa next to Kyung.

One shakes his head, smirking. “Nope. I asked a PD on the way here.”

And with that, he’s gone - followed shortly after by Mino, who greets the both of them warmly before leaving with a wave.

“Wanna go get bulgogi?” Andup asks, his head lolling onto Kyung’s shoulder, shifting closer. “I’m starving.”

He would, really. He’d love to just get out of here and eat bulgogi and get drunk with his friends; maybe go to karaoke or something dumb like that. But still he hesitates, and finds himself shaking his head.

“I think I’m going to stay and watch,” he replies, shifting away from Andup slightly.

Andup looks at him incredulously, eyes narrowed. “But that will take hours!”

Kyung shrugs and looks down at the rather worn leather of the sofa. “Yeah.”

Andup leaves without another word. Part of him wants to get up and race down the hallway after him, to just go and get mindless drunk until he forgets the feelings swirling around inside of him tumultuous… But he doesn’t. He shucks off his shoes and crosses his legs, watching the television eagerly, waiting to see what Jiho will do.

//

 _‘I got into team TaPal with Andup, One and Mino – but Jiho didn’t.’_ He texts quickly to Jihoon as soon as filming is over, heading to the bathrooms hurriedly.

 _‘shit :( that would suck. is zico alright?’_ Jihoon replies instantaneously, before following up with another text. _‘and since when did u start calling him jiho?’_

Taking a quick left, heading deeper into the building - he learnt pretty quickly that the bathrooms located nearest where the show is filmed tend to get very busy very fast, and had scouted out some bathrooms further into the building where all the offices are located. He walks briskly, wanting to catch Andup and Jihoon, who are still out drinking; filming hadn’t taken as long as he expected and he knows that he can get there in under forty minutes, if he hurries.

 _‘I don’t know, I didn’t see him. He got into Verbal Jint’s team, though,’_  he replies carefully, choosing to ignore Jihoon’s rather probing question, slipping his phone back in his pocket as he pushes open the door to the bathroom.

Jiho’s there, standing at the sinks, staring into the mirror. Kyung freezes, still halfway into the room; he knows instantly that this is an incredibly private moment, one he shouldn’t intrude on – Jiho’s eyes are wet, and Kyung swears he sees tracks of tears down his face.

He takes a step backwards, but the door creaks and Jiho looks at him through the mirror and Kyung’s heart stops. Jiho isn’t angry, or hateful, or jealous or bitter; he’s just sad, and that hurts more than Kyung ever thought it could. He takes a step forward, then another, keeping eye contact with Jiho the entire time.

“Who’s following who now?” Jiho whispers, smiling slightly.

Kyung snorts, and draws up along side the younger man, brushing elbows with him. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, looking down at his hands.

“For what?”

Kyung turns to look at Jiho and, again, is taken aback at how long Jiho’s eyelashes are, how full his lips are, how beautiful his eyes are. “For everything. I was a dick to you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would happen like this.”

Jiho’s eyes drop to the sink and he scowls. “My fucking brother.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, hesitantly reaching out and touching Jiho’s bare arm, blinking at the shock that goes through him when he does so. “I didn’t… I didn’t know all of this shit would happen. I didn’t… I didn’t think.”

Jiho looks down at him, his blonde hair falling around his face in waves, and Kyung can’t stop himself from reaching out and touching it, surprised to find it’s as soft as he’d imagined. Jiho’s eyes widen, and he inhales a shaky breath as Kyung’s hand strokes down his face, gently down his neck, over his shoulders to come to rest on his chest, over his heart, where Kyung can feel his heartbeat, thrumming and delicate.

“What are you doing?” Jiho asks, but there’s no malice in his tone, just wonder and curiosity.

Kyung doesn’t know, but the answer comes to him all at once. “What feels right.”

With those words, something snaps between the two of them. Jiho wraps his arm around Kyung’s waist and pulls him close, looking at him for a moment before closing the distance between them. The moment their lips meet Kyung’s knees go weak, his fingers clenching, grasping at the fabric of Jiho’s shirt desperately. Their tongues meet and part, again and again, and Kyung realises he’s never been this alive before, like his heart was pounding through his veins, threatening to overcome him entirely. All he knows is the taste of Jiho, the feel of Jiho’s shirt under his fingers, the tangy, sweet smell of Jiho’s sweat.

Jiho walks him backwards until he’s pressed up against a wall, the tiles cool on his back where Jiho has hiked up his shirt, his hands slipping upward to thumb at his nipple, making him gasp and reach for Jiho’s belt, frantic and sloppy. _This_ is what has been building between them for the past few weeks, ever since they made eye contact; it explodes into being between them, something tangible and real that Kyung can _feel_.

“Kyung.” Jiho moans his name, his lips against Kyung’s neck, hand rubbing over his cock through his jeans, and he tips his head back, leaning against the tiles, lust thrumming through him, building low in his belly, a delicious warm heat.

“Jiho,” he whispers, running his hand through Jiho’s hair, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure –

But then Jiho isn’t there anymore and his absence is like a bucket of cold water. Kyung straightens up and wraps his arms around himself, aware he must look thoroughly debauched, just as Jiho does – his shirt all askew, hair mussed, lips full and pink. Jiho just looks at him, an expression that Kyung can’t read on his face, before he whirls and heads for the door.

“Wait,” he cries, weakly, but Jiho’s gone without another word, and he slumps back on the wall, clenching his fist and closing his eyes.

He knows he’s fucked up _again_ – but this time, he doesn’t know how to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yahoo i love being evil >:')
> 
> also i hoped u liked the sneaky switcharoo that i did with zico/taewoon huehue


	6. round six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh

“Hyung,” Jihoon says. _“Hyung.”_

“Hm?” Kyung looks up absentmindedly from where he was locking and unlocking his phone screen over and over again, pointlessly draining the battery life just for something to do.

Jihoon leans over from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor and snags the phone from Kyung’s hands, ignoring the squawk of protest he makes. “It’s for your own damn good. Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to flush this down the toilet?” He holds the phone over his head and gives Kyung a dark look, trying to prove he’s not bluffing.

Kyung makes a strangled noise at that – his phone is the only way he has to contact Jiho, and lord knows he’s not giving up hope yet. It’s been three days since – well, since Jiho had pinned him up against a wall and kissed him until he was breathless and had then left without saying a word. Kyung’s been moping around their apartment ever since; Jihoon’s perceptive enough to know when something’s up, and had been giving him space. But patience has limits, and Jihoon has apparently reached the end of his.

“I…” Kyung begins, looking at his hands and then back up at the screen where they’re watching Music Core (because Jihoon insists). “Something weird happened with Jiho.”

Jihoon shifts a little closer to him, instinctively sensing that this is big. “Weird how? You have a very broad definition of _weird_ , hyung.”

Kyung opens his mouth and then shuts it again, unsure of where to begin. Jihoon knows he’s gay, and he doesn’t care, but _still_. He tries to keep that part of himself private, because you can never tell what’s going to happen in this industry. “I… We kissed.”

A range of emotions cross Jihoon’s face, but the one he settles on is shock, and a little bit of awe. “ _What?_ You _kissed?_ ” He shuffles even closer. “Tell me everything.”

So Kyung does, relaying to him the whole sad, sorry story, finishing miserably with “...And I haven’t heard from him since.”

Jihoon sits back on his hands, looking at the ceiling as he processes everything that Kyung’s told him. Kyung, for his part, just looks at the TV miserably, even EXO telling him to _call me baby_ not cheering him up. It’s a ridiculous story, one that seems like it could be lifted straight from a drama, but somehow it’s happened to him.

“Have you texted him?” Jihoon asks a minute later, jolting Kyung out of his revelry (how do they manage to dance so in sync?).

Kyung raises an eyebrow at him. “No. And I don’t want to. _He’s_ the one that walked away. He should text first.”

Jihoon nods sagely at that, like he’s not twenty-two and is instead old and wise. “Okay. Fair enough. But, hyung…” he leans forward, putting his hand on Kyung’s knee. “Do you like him?”

Kyung looks at the ground and can’t answer, and that is an answer in itself.

//

The next day, when he’s lying in bed nursing his pride and trying to ignore Jihoon practising in the lounge room – loudly – his phone rings, and he gropes for it so violently it falls onto the floor. Cursing, he snatches it from where it fell and picks it up, looking at the screen hopefully. It’s not Jiho (of course it’s not) but it’s the next best thing - one of the mnet producers.

He walks out into the lounge room a few minutes later, snatching the still-warm bowl of ramen that Jihoon had made for himself and promptly forgotten. “Been summoned, hyung?” Jihoon asks, lowering the hairbrush he’s been using as a mic. “What is it this time? Will you get to see Jiho again?”

Kyung slams the bowl down, making Jihoon jump, and looks at him coldly. “Don’t joke, Jihoon. This isn’t funny. It’s my fucking life.”

Jihoon pales, retreating back into himself, but Kyung doesn’t have time to comfort him and just takes another mouthful of ramen before reaching for his keys and wallet. “I’ll be back tonight,” he mutters, looking at Jihoon blankly. “Probably late.”

//

In the bus on the way to the address he’s been given – which after some quick googling, turns out to be Taewoon’s studio – he swallows his pride and texts Jihoon an apology. They so rarely fight like this (they argue over what to watch on television or what to eat for dinner every night, but that’s the extent of it), but Kyung knows he’s right. Being gay in Korea is hard enough, but add being a rapper in there and the cards are stacked against you. It’s not really a secret in the underground – most of his career he’s been fielding _gay_ and _closet_ disses – but he’s never said anything publicly about it and no one has asked. If it were to become public, a fact, however? He would be nothing and his career would be over. Which makes what he did with Jiho all the more worse. Fuck, Jiho’s probably not even gay.

 _'im sorry for joking around, hyung, i wnt do it again,'_ Jihoon replies, before spamming Kyung with emojis. _'where r u goin 2day?'_

 _'Studio. I guess to work on the next mission,_ ' he shoots back, turning up the volume on his headphones.

When he gets there, he sees Andup waiting out the front for him. He pulls Kyung into a bear hug that nearly lifts him off the ground, his exuberance palpable.

“Are you ready?” he asks, turning to Kyung as they go inside. “The others are already here. You’re late.”

“Buses,” Kyung mutters. “You know how they are.”

Andup takes the stairs two at a time, impatient as always, waiting for Kyung at the top. “Yeah? When are you gonna suck it up and buy a car, huh?”

Kyung digs his nails into his palm as they walk down a plush hall. “When I can fucking afford it, Hanbyeol,” he snarls, turning the handle of the practise room and plastering a fake smile on his face.

The others all stand up and bow to him politely, taking his hand and shaking it, muttering _nice to meet you, hyung_. He takes a seat next to Andup with some trepidation, realising he’s the oldest and some responsibility is going to fall on his shoulders as a result of that. It’s nothing he’s not used to – Jihoon is a handful to manage sometimes – but he wishes he could catch a break. He’s already in a team with Jiho’s best friend and his older brother – life is hard enough.

Taewoon and Paloalto walk in at that, and they all get to their feet. Taewoon’s eyes find Kyung immediately, looking him up and down, and Kyung represses a shiver. What has Jiho told him? From what Jihoon had said, the two aren’t particularly close, but _still_.

“Focus,” Andup whispers to him, digging an elbow into his ribs, and Kyung does his best to sit up and listen, clearing his thoughts of long blonde hair and lips that were as soft as they looked.

//

After hearing the beat that they’re going to rap to, they’re all ushered into a van, Taewoon and Paloalto just smiling mysteriously when Kyung asks where they’re going. It’s probably some team bonding mission – in fact, One waves his phone in the air as they pull away and says that AOMG is playing basketball down on the river – but Kyung’s never felt more antisocial in his life, so he slumps down into his seat and opens a game on his phone, ignoring Andup giving him a death stare from the seat across from him.

“So I hear you have beef with Jiho,” Mino says a few minutes later, sticking his head over the seat in front and making Kyung jump and blink up at him. “And idol rappers in general.”

“It’s not personal,” Kyung grunts, locking his phone and blinking up at Mino. Once again he’s completely out of his element, unsure and unknowing, and he _hates_ it.

“We’re gonna have to work as a team, you know,” Mino replies, but his tone is teasing and he’s grinning. “Think you can manage that?”

Kyung hauls himself up into a sitting position and offers Mino a tentative smile. “I’ll do my best.”

The rest of the drive passes quickly, the others talking amongst themselves animatedly, discussing rhymes and punchlines and nuances. Kyung tunes out – he hears enough of that at home with Jihoon – and finds himself flicking through photos of Jiho on naver before coming to his senses and realising what he’s doing.

They end up at some restaurant near the water, and it’s so hot that they all end up diving in, Andup dragging Kyung in kicking and screaming. He gets his revenge, however, by tackling Andup around the waist and dunking him as the others watch on amusedly. Kyung’d started off the day in a foul mood, but as they all clamber out of the water, Mino reaching down to pull him up, he finds he can’t stop smiling. His good mood lasts all through dinner and even in the van on the way back to the studio.

It sags, somewhat, when he realises they have to practice tonight, and that he has to wrangle the other three into behaving – no mean feat, since Andup is particularly hyper today. By the time they call it quits at around midnight, Kyung’s exhausted, and sags on the floor next to his bag.

“Hyung,” Mino says, and he looks up from his phone, pausing mid-text to Jihoon. “How’re you getting home?”

He hadn’t thought about it, but it’s a good question. The buses that go to his apartment have stopped running by now, and he doubts he has enough money to splurge on a taxi. He’d probably have to walk, which isn’t bad – he’s done it a few times before when finances were tight. So he just looks up at Mino and shrugs.

Mino grins widely at him. “I’ll give you a lift.” Kyung opens his mouth to protest, but Mino just shakes his head. “Come on.”

He’s instantly nervous – this could be a simple friendly gesture for a hyung, or this could be something else entirely. He just doesn’t _know_ , he has no idea, and he bites his lip worriedly as he follows Mino out towards the lift, feeling Andup’s eyes boring a hole in the back of his head.

Mino’s car is worth more than both of his parents’ cars combined, and Kyung straps himself in, admiring the huge swathes of leather and distinct new car smell that all combine to scream _money_. They travel in companionable silence for a bit, Kyung resisting the urge to text Jihoon, his lifeline, before Mino turns to him as they pull up at a set of lights.

“Jiho is…” Mino begins, and Kyung’s mouth goes dry – he knows, he _knows_. “Jiho’s in kind of a difficult place at the moment. I don’t know what he said to you, but just… try to keep that in mind.”

Kyung’s brain takes a second from panicking and contemplating what Mino would do if he just got out here, in the middle of an intersection, to listen to what he’s saying. “What did Jiho tell you?” he replies, his fingers clenching on his thighs.

Mino shrugs as he pulls away, taking the next right that Kyung points to wordlessly. “Just that you had an altercation in the bathrooms the other day. That’s the word he used, an altercation.” He glances over at Kyung doubtfully. “I have no idea what he means.”

 _And it’s going to fucking stay that way,_ Kyung thinks bitterly. “Altercation is a good word for it,” he mutters instead, biting his lip. Thank god his place is nearby, and before Mino can say anything more he’s pulling up in front of Kyung’s dingy, shitty little apartment, and Kyung’s unbuckling his seatbelt as fast as he can, ignoring his shaking hands. “Thanks for the lift, I’ll see you tomorrow, bye,” he blurts, catching sight of Mino’s bewildered expression before bolting for the relative safety of his apartment.

Jihoon falls on him the moment he gets inside, pestering him with “hyung, you gotta tell me what happened, I haven’t heard from you all day,” but Kyung just mutters "later," and heads to the shower, sticking himself under the boiling hot water and relaxing for the first time all day.

Fuck. _Fuck_. He feels somewhat betrayed, almost, that Jiho had spoken to Mino about him. What had he said? Was it a warning? The thought of Jiho, opening up about him – like he was worthy of being spoken about, like Jiho was thinking about Kyung as much as Kyung is thinking about him – fuck.

He’s in way, way too deep.

//

The next few days are an endless slideshow of practice. Even when Kyung’s not at the studio with the others he’s holed up in his room, repeating his rap over and over to himself, making it stick, trying desperately to focus. Because it’s so fucking hard to when Mino’s looking at him doubtfully, Taewoon’s examining him like he’s a specimen under a microscope, and he still hasn’t heard anything from Jiho. So when the day of the performance looms, he’s grateful – because, provided everything goes right today, he’s going to be able to see Jiho, to gauge his reaction. The complete lack of contact is stifling, and he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed seeing Jiho in person, being followed around by him. In the bus on the way to the mnet studios he wonders how hate can turn around so quickly to become affection; does passion work that way?

The moment he enters the building he’s accosted by his teammates, who grab him excitedly and drag him into the room they’ve been assigned in. Kyung looks warily at the cameras, and then spies a monitor on the wall opposite the sofa that Andup’s currently stretching across. “Do we get to watch their performances?” he asks no one in particular, sitting on Andup’s legs. “When’s our turn?”

“We’re last, hyung,” One replies, looking up from the corner where he’s mumbling his lyrics quietly to himself. “AOMG’s first.”

Great. That gives him enough time to stew. He’s not feeling confident today, so he runs over his lyrics in his head while the AOMG team sets up. Again, he wonders as he mumbles the words to himself over and over again, when he’d started caring about this stupid fucking competition. Probably around the same time he’d started caring about Jiho – and he’s still has no fucking idea where he stands on that issue, except he wants _more_ of Jiho in every way possible, which is unnerving.

They watch in reverent silence as the AOMG team performs, followed not long after by YG. They look alright in Kyung’s eyes, but he thinks his team is better. Mino’s idol training had actually come in handy in getting them to move in sync with each other (he’d joked about throwing together a dance and had gotten joint glares from Kyung and Andup) and by the last rehearsal they were acting and rapping like a real proper team, not like four strangers who had only met a week before. In fact, Kyung’s looking over at Andup with fondness, about to ask him when he got so damn complacent, when One points at the screen and says, “Look, it’s Brand New.”

Kyung’s head has never whipped around so fast in his _life_ , and sure enough, there’s Jiho, looking just a little bit more nervous than usual, hunched over a little more so he looks small next to Hanhae, Blacknut and Basick. Kyung’s heart does a little flip in his chest at the sight of him, because _fuck_ , he looks good – he looks really good, and Kyung doesn’t quite know what to do with that information so he just sits on his hands and bites the inside of his cheek, aware that Mino’s watching him like a hawk.

“Jiho hyung’s nervous,” Mino announces to no one in particular, but he’s looking at Kyung when he says it.

Kyung makes a noncommittal noise and sits up a little bit straighter to watch as they all pace around the stage anxiously. The beat is strong and they all end up bobbing their heads mindlessly, grinning as Blacknut kills his verse, making Andup hoot and fall back in his chair. Even Kyung’s smiling, caught up on the adrenaline for the performance that he’s not even in – and then it’s Jiho’s turn and the stupid waiting room fades away as Kyung listens in awe. Even with his earlier nervousness, Jiho is _killing_ it today, looking larger than life –

And then he falters, forgetting his lines and mumbling for a good two seconds before continuing on like nothing’s happened, although he’s considerably less confident this time. The camera catches the expressions on Jiho’s teammates’ faces, mirroring the expressions they all have; Jiho has been infallible so far, one of the top to beat, and this? This had come out of nowhere. The rest of the performance goes off without a hitch, but when they finish Jiho has shrunken into himself, looking miserable and pale, and a sudden wave of protectiveness washes over Kyung, so strong he sits back onto the couch heavily.

“He’s gonna get eliminated,” Andup murmurs. “He has to. The rest of them did fine.”

Kyung snorts, and the others all turn to him, surprised. “Aren’t you guys forgetting that Block B is under Brand New?” he shakes his head disdainfully, fully aware what he’s saying is either going to get edited out or twisted around so he looks like the villain. “There’s no way Jiho – Zico is getting eliminated.”

They all blink at him owlishly, and Mino’s face turns cold at that; Kyung snorts, again. If he can’t handle the truth just because he’s an idol – well. That’s his prerogative. They all sit silently, staring at the monitor, watching as San-E and Verbal Jint deliberate for a good fifteen minutes – and then –

And then. And then Blacknut is saying his goodbyes, and Kyung’s turning to the others with a triumphant look on his face, and Mino’s getting up and storming out of the room, making a noise of disgust as he goes. Kyung honestly couldn’t give two shits at this point; he was proven _right_ , he knows how the industry _works_ – and when he looks up at Jiho, looking small and sick, he no longer feels affection or protectiveness but pure and simple disdain at how easily Jiho plays into the system. How easily they’re _all_ being played, really.

//

_'wht happened hyung???'_

_'hyung????'_

_'answer me kyungie hyung, did u get eliminated? did jiho?'_

Kyung slips his phone back into his pocket as he heads down the hallway. It’s stupid of him to be coming this way, he knows it is, because there’s no way Jiho would make the same mistake twice and go to the exact same bathroom. But Kyung’s a fool, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to punch Jiho in the face or kiss him, so he’s gone looking to try and figure it out.

Which is why his heart nearly bottoms out when he pushes open the door and sees Jiho there, standing over the sink, sobs wracking though his body brutally. Kyung freezes for a moment, the deja vu confounding him – the only thing different this time is the knowledge they both share and the clothes they’re wearing – and the indescision dividing him. But Jiho sounds so broken that Kyung can’t stand it, so he crosses the room and spins Jiho around, drawing him into his arms, biting his lip as Jiho clings onto him desperately like he’s drowning. Kyung’s no stranger to comforting crying people (it’s only about every other week that Jihoon panics and decides he’s not good enough to be a rapper anymore) but this is different; Jiho’s crying like it’s the only thing he _can_ do, so Kyung slips his hand around Jiho’s waist to rub circles on his back, whispering placations.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs softly into Jiho’s shirt. “I’ve got you.”

After a minute, Jiho’s sobs quieten, and he pulls back. He looks like shit – his eyes are red and his face is swollen – but Kyung’s struck with the knowledge that he’d still fuck him anyway, and he physically flinches at that unwelcome thought. “Sorry,” Jiho mutters, leaning away but not removing his hands from Kyung’s hips. “Sorry – I just. Don’t worry.”

Kyung wants to scream at him – _you ignored me for a week and now you’re sobbing your eyes out, don’t be fucking coy_ – but he knows that won’t help so he dabs at Jiho’s tears with his sleeve, the gesture surprising even him. “You can tell me. I’ll listen.”

Jiho looks doubtfully at him. “I just – I wish they’d fucking eliminated me. I don’t want to play their stupid fucking game if they’re going to fuck people over like that.”

It dawns on Kyung, right then and there with Jiho’s hands on his hips, that Jiho is just as much of a pawn in this as he is, helpless, being pushed around by others; he’s not the one to blame in this equation, the one they’re all fucking tangled up in. The guilt is like a smack in the face, realising he’s been assigning blame to the wrong person, the wrong _people_ all this time – and he can’t stand it, it’s too fucking much, so he cups the back of Jiho’s neck and drags him in for a hungry, biting kiss.

Just like last time, Jiho responds immediately, and just like last time he backs Kyung up against a wall, biting his way down Kyung’s neck to the collar of his shirt, lifting it up and off, making Kyung gasp at the cold of the tiles on his back. He doesn’t know if Jiho’s going to freak out this time, and he doesn’t even know what he did wrong last time, so he just lets his instincts take over, his hands slipping underneath Jiho’s shirt to palm at the hot expanse of his belly. He gasps as Jiho bites him on the collarbone and then kisses his way back up to Kyung’s lips, leaving him hungry and wanting _more_ – he’s always wanted more from Jiho, all this time, he was just too fucking stupid to notice it. So he thumbs open the button on Jiho’s jeans, yanking down his fly, delving underneath to grasp at his cock and oh, god, the wait was worth it just to see the look on Jiho’s face when he settles into a somewhat frantic rhythm. Jiho looks beautiful like this, his eyes fluttering shut, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows over and over again.

“God, Jiho,” Kyung groans into Jiho’s neck, his nails digging into Jiho’s back. “Fuck.”

Jiho just moans and the sound is so loud that Kyung kisses him to shut him up, realises that he doesn’t think he could ever get tired of kissing Jiho like this, not ever. Not when Jiho’s grasping onto him like it’s all he can do, his tongue touching Kyung’s over and over, his moans reverberating through them both. Kyung finds himself arching up towards Jiho, closing any space between them, gasping when Jiho’s hand finds its way to his ass, yanking him closer.

“Kyung, fuck…” Jiho whines, throwing back his head, biting his lip; he must be close, now, because he’s fucking Kyung’s hand desperately, his hips coming up to meet the rhythm that Kyung’s setting. “Please…”

And then Jiho’s coming, lips parting in a moan that Kyung swallows, his hips stuttering helplessly, his hand pulling Kyung’s hair almost painfully; Kyung just watches, so far removed from himself that he doesn’t even think this is _real_ anymore – how can it be, when he’s dreamed of this more times than he can count? His dreams, however, pale in comparison to the real thing, to the way Jiho leans down and kisses him gently, slowly. Kyung’s anxieties come rushing back at once when Jiho pulls away, looking debauched and ragged and sleepy; it’s such a good look on him that Kyung wants to see it again and again, but he’s being presumptuous, so he wraps his arms around himself, feeling small.

This time, Kyung’s expecting it when Jiho leaves. He’d prepared himself for this eventuality, of course – he always mapped out the way situations could go – and he’d sworn he was ready for the hurt he feels. But, as he sinks down onto the floor, he realises he was wrong on so very many counts. He’d thought he wasn’t that attached to Jiho, and he was wrong there; he’d also thought this wouldn’t hurt as much the second time around – but it does, somehow. It hurts _worse_ than the last time, and he digs his nails into his arms just to feel something, alone and miserable on the bathroom floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felt so bad about making you wait so long I decided to make it extra long for y'all <3 
> 
> edit: please stop asking me to continue this, I will continue this, I have not forgotten about it, there will be a new chapter, please stop rushing me please
> 
> edit again: i don't know how many times I have to beg you guys to stop asking me about this, PLEASE. I WILL continue it
> 
> edit 3: all comments about this will be deleted. please for the love of god stop asking


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